


Dying Wish

by UmbralJxrk



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Injury, M/M, poisoned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21595120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmbralJxrk/pseuds/UmbralJxrk
Summary: ONESHOT. Set in the Leibniz Dimension. As Nefarian Serpine lies dying he wishes to see his former lover one last time.
Relationships: Mevolent/Nefarian Serpine
Kudos: 6





	Dying Wish

Golden sunlight pierced through the leaf canopy and danced on the water of the stream winding its way through the forest. Nefarian Serpine watched the spectacle from the shade of a willow, his back leaning against its trunk. He let out a content sigh. It truly was a beautiful place to die. 

A smoke in hand, he took another lazy drag, trying to ignore the pain radiating from the right side of his ribcage. The poisonous thorn of some vile beast he and his men had found within the caves below the abandoned, old Gromwood mansion had digged itself deep into his flesh, too deep to cut out without the necessary surgical supplies, and it only seemed to borrow itself further into him with every move. The poison itself was unknown to even him himself, yet certainly lethal. If only he had access to his old laboratory, he would have surely been able to come up with a cure, but ever since he had joined the Resistance he had been lucky to even get as much as a few painkilling leaves and a bandage, which by now was soaked in his own blood and drenching his formerly white dress shirt. Even so, the other Resistance members had only hesitantly parted with even these most basic of medical supplies. They knew he was dying as much as Serpine himself knew it. Why waste resources on a dead man? Nefarian scoffed. They had circled him like vultures, even Harmony, as he had grown weaker and weaker. He had left while he still could. But not without relieving them of a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of tragically cheap wine. Oh, what wouldn't he give for a bottle of the finely aged wine he had used to drink daily in Mevolent's service. This piss water was barely enough to get drunk.

But perhaps it was the intoxication that moved him to access this worlds magical internet, the World Well, his eyes turning glassy. It had been a while since he had last used it for a fear of being tracked and captured through it, but at this point in time, what did it matter? He might as well use it to entertain and distract himself from the stinging pain in his side for as long as he was still drawing breath. A part of him hoped Mevolent himself would track his presence in the Well and find him himself instead of sending his Redhoods. Though he hated to admit it, his heart ached to see his former lover one last time, to not be alone as he passed away. Pushing such grim thoughts from his mind he raised the bottle to his lips and took another large gulp, pulling information about the war and what followed after from the Well. He very much doubted his portrayal in history was flattering after his betrayal, so this should make for an amusing read.

_Mevolent had been informed by his subordinates mere seconds after Serpine had accessed the World Well about his little traitors location. His thoughts were racing as he threw on his battlesuit. He knew Nefarian knew he would find him instantly._ Was this a trap? _Was that sneaky little serpent using himself as a bait?_

When the shadows dispersed around Mevolent and Vile after the shadow-walk, the two men found themselves in the middle of an idyllic little forest; they seemed so out of place in in their battle worn armour. But so did Serpine who was still laying leaned against the same tree, glassy-eyed, pale and sweaty. His clothes were torn and blood-soaked, his breathing shallow. By his side laid an almost empty wine bottle in the grass. He could have easily been mistaken for a corpse, hadn't his eyes suddenly cleared up and his mouth twisted into a forced grin. " _Oh my_ , did I scare you, Mevolent? Or why else would you bring your bastard of a lapdog along?"

A quick reading of the air told Mevolent that Serpine was alone. This was not a trap, this was a goodbye. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed Vile's shadows lashing out excitedly, drinking in the aura of a quickly approaching death.

"Leave. I want to talk with him in private." Mevolent sheathed his sword as he spoke. When Vile didn't move, the warlord turned to glare at him. "Now."

The stand-off barely lasted a second before Vile dispersed into an angry cloud of shadows, leaving his king alone with the traitor.

"I'm assuming it was not my mocking that made you send him away, huh?" Letting out a weak chuckle, Serpine used his remaining strength to lead the smoke to his lips once again. Mevolent didn't answer, long strides quickly taking him to his former lovers side. "I would offer you a drink, but to be honest, the wine is awful.” The Adept continued. “But there should still be a fag left in the pack."

Skilled hands opened the buckles of his mask and slipped it of his face. A movement the warlord had done a dozen times. The same movement that hadn't changed in the last few centuries, Nefarian noticed with a smile. There was comfort in knowing that at least some things never change.

"You're dying." His voice was calm, his face betraying no emotion, even without the mask which he had now attached at the side of his belt.

"No shit, Sherlock."

Mevolent’s lips curled in distaste. "Language, Nefarian-"

"Or _what_!?" Serpine spat. "You'll kill me? If you plan on torturing me I suggest you hurry up." A joyless laugh left the Adepts lips. Mevolent watched him silently, contemplating. 

An uncomfortable moment of silence passed. 

"Why did you call me here, Nefarian?"

"What makes you think I did? Why would I do that? Perhaps I just wanted to see what lies you wrote about me in the history books." Serpine chuckled. "Someone's been holding a grudge, huh?"

“You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me, my darling.” A large hand reached out to Nefarian, pushing a few strands out of his face. His hair was a greasy mess and pearls of sweat were collecting on his forehead. The poor thing was burning up with fever, yet his entire body was shaking rapidly. “You don’t want to die alone.”

Serpine flinched away from the tallers touch “You only ever see what you want to see. You always have.”

“And you have always been afraid of death.” The warlord gently cupped his face, rubbing his cheek with his thumb. “You have always been afraid of being alone. You could never even spend one night without company. Do you remember how you would whine when I would leave you locked in a room to ponder about your latest failures?”

Nefarian didn’t want to, but he was weak, oh so weak, and the others warmth was more than welcome as he nuzzled against his palm. “It was so cold”, he whimpered. “I’m so cold…”

His poor pet, always so needy. So weak. So helpless. So much in need of a master. Mevolent smiled, his hand sliding off the smallers face to slip it under his his back and the other below his knees. "What are you doing?" Nefarian’s speech was starting to become slurred while his body was almost completely limp at this point, ragdolling when he was picked up. Quiet curses left his lips as his cigarette slipped between too weak fingers and fell to the ground, extinguishing with a silent hiss.

"I'm not letting you get away this easily, Nefarian."

"It's too late now. I barely have minutes left."

Ignoring him the warlord called for Vile, but let out a frustrated growl when his demand wasn't answered. "Perhaps you shouldn't have send him away." Serpine murmured.

"Oh, he can hear me, believe me. He just doesn't want you to survive." Mevolent took off the ground, soaring high into the air. With shadow-walking and teleportation being unavailable, flying was the next best thing.

This was nice, actually. To be held by strong arms, so gently, so securely. It has been forever since he had felt this comfortable, warm and safe. If it only wasn't be for the sharp pain in his side.

"Mev…" Nefarian spoke quietly, breathing heavily as even such a simple action seemed to strain him. "It's too late for me. You know that."

"You're not dying until I allow you to." Mevolent hissed. No matter how much he tried to cover it with anger, it was hard for someone that has known him for centuries to miss the waver in his voice.

"Mev, let me tell you one last secret-"

"You're not dying!" 

Nefarian could feel his lover tighten his embrace, pressing him closely against his chest. 

"Even after all these years…" Talking was getting increasingly harder.

"...after everything we have both done to each other.." He felt weak, oh so weak. His head lolled against the Mevolent’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. How calming it was. How much it reminded him of old times. Better times.

"... I've never stopped missing you..." His vision was turning fuzzy, blurred, as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier. His breath was rattling in his barely heaving chest

"...I have never stopped loving you."

The world around him faded to black.

**Author's Note:**

> I know Mevolent wears a helmet with a screaming face on it and not a mask in canon, but I draw him with a mask for aesthetic reasons, so I'll write him that way too.


End file.
